Leight weight

I won't sit on top of any mountain of recyclable letters
The rain falls still sufficiently to cause immortality to fade away
I won't swim in the Holy River
I always liked the taste of lemon when I drink

I won't nod when I want to yawn
The uvula is frail
I'll exert a renewed control over the pressure
I won't plead for my resurrection
The legitimacy of my death isn't yet approved
By enough dark horses

I won't bother my neighbor with my exaltations
I won't ask anyone for the exact weight of light
I just won't breathe until I calm down
I won't ask my neighbor to share my exaltations
I won't explain
It's so late!
I won't ask any question
 About time
Or lost time
Or past time

I need to keep some natural nimbleness in the way to inhale
I won't write on a mountain of sheets
That just are the visible side
 Of a double burden.

January 2011